


I've never known a kid like you to stay down for long

by joyful_soul_collector



Series: Irondad Oneshots [9]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Peter Parker, BAMF Tony Stark, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Peter, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Starvation, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyful_soul_collector/pseuds/joyful_soul_collector
Summary: Peter runs away after his identity is revealed, and is just trying to get by
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Irondad Oneshots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884265
Comments: 12
Kudos: 130
Collections: The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange





	I've never known a kid like you to stay down for long

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pookiethefrickinbunn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pookiethefrickinbunn/gifts).



> This is my submission for the third Friendly Neighborhood Exchange! I combined the prompts: 1. Runaway Peter/Peter on the run (post-spiderman. Maybe he’s framed, maybe someone’s after him.) and 3. Post Far From Home (ft. An alive Tony, in some way shape or form)
> 
> TWs: guns, mentions of alcoholism, and if you're sensitive to eating disorder things I do describe his hunger a bit so be careful

It took longer than you’d think it would to find a roof that normal people couldn’t climb easily onto. Most places had some sort of roof access point, and Peter had been chased off them enough times to look for one that he literally couldn’t be kicked off of. 

Though he was seriously considering leaving this one despite how safe it was. He was on a pretty tall building, tall enough that most people didn’t see him, and it didn’t have a roof access point either. But this seemingly perfect safe haven of a building was right next to a restaurant. 

And Peter hadn’t eaten in days. 

Peter pressed his hands to his belly as it rumbled for what must’ve been the millionth time that day. The smell of the food wafting through the air was practically torturous, making his mouth water so much he had to lift his mask up and wipe drool off his face at least every five minutes. 

He was so hungry he’d spent the last half hour just sitting on the edge of the roof, inhaling the scent of food deeply and listening to his stomach growl. 

But eventually he knew he had to leave. He’d already spent a week on this roof, and as safe as it was, nowhere was safe for very long. Not when everyone was trying to hunt you down for something you didn’t do. 

It’d been a couple weeks after his identity was revealed that a video surfaced of Spider-Man supposedly beating up an unarmed, defenseless man. What the video didn’t show was the man dragging a screaming little boy into an alleyway, and Peter saving him. Videos like this had actually happened before, usually edited to make him look like the bad guy by The Daily Bugle. But this was the first time people had an address to attack. And because of that, the video stuck around, circulating around New York, until suddenly he didn’t feel safe anywhere at all. 

And not only was he in danger, his friends and family were starting to be accused of supporting a horrible villain, and Aunt May had even considered moving. Even Mr. Stark had been pressured to fire Peter from the Stark Industries Internship Program. He didn’t, but the damage was done. Rather than put everyone through the pain of being his friend, his _family_ , Peter left, with a vague plan to head west. 

The hardest part was actually taking the tracker out of his suit. He knew how upset Mr. Stark would be that he broke his trust. Again. 

That was two weeks ago, and now the only problem was the health alert in the suit. The health alert sent out a signal of Peter’s location if he were to lose consciousness while out on patrol. Peter had to take off the suit to sleep without having the alert go out (which really sucked, as the heater would’ve been nice on cold nights) but he also had to make sure he never fainted, passed out from blood loss, got knocked out, or straight up forgot to take off the suit before going to bed. Or, roof.

Which was easier said than done when you’re exhausted and starving and freezing to death. And unfortunately the health alert was too complex to remove without compromising the rest of the suit, possibly rendering it completely useless. 

There was no way he’d survive without his suit. 

And even if he didn’t admit it, Peter liked the idea of having a fail-safe in case anything really bad happened. He liked the idea that he might get to see Mr. Stark again. 

But until then, he was tired with nowhere to sleep, hungry with nothing to eat, and sad with nobody to comfort him. 

Peter sighed, massaging his empty stomach as he stood up shakily. Might as well leave now instead of torturing himself over the food. He walked over to where his backpack sat, and pulled a map out to make sure he was still going the right direction. 

Peter’s complete lack of plan for when he arrived at this vague “west” was starting to bother him, but he didn’t have the energy to try and think of a plan now. All he knew was he needed to get some food, and fast. And for food, he needed money. He’d already spent everything he’d brought with him within the first week, and if he didn’t want to starve he needed to find somewhere that’d be willing to pay him for a couple odd jobs. 

Like he’d ever be so lucky with his face plastered on every tv screen, the word “menace” echoing in every watcher’s ears. 

He wondered if a store would be willing to help him out. Maybe they could pay him to restock some shelves or something, he’d done that plenty of times at Mr. Delmar’s.

Peter’s stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of one of Mr. Delmar’s sandwiches, and he gripped his belly with a hiss of pain. Yep, bad idea thinking about that. But still, a store was a good option. Especially a big one, one where an extra face wouldn’t look too suspicious. He might as well head out and look around now, nighttime was always the best to travel in. A lot less eyes on you. 

Peter slipped off his shoes and pressed the spider emblem on his chest, breathing a small sigh of relief as it well away. Having his shirt and pants on under the suit was always uncomfortable, but it made it so he didn’t have to change into his clothes to sleep. It was warmer too, but he needed to be in street clothes now. 

But Peter started shivering almost immediately, his trembling hands having difficulty pulling his hoodie out of his pack and stuffing his suit in to replace it. He quickly forced it on, teeth chattering as he pulled up the hood and rubbed his arms. 

He really shouldn’t be this cold. It was springtime, but no matter what he did, Peter was always freezing without the heater in his suit to warm him. It made sleeping practically impossible, but there was no way he would risk Mr. Stark finding him. He couldn’t put everyone through the pain of just… being around him. 

When he’d stopped trembling enough to actually get moving, he yanked off his mask, swung on his backpack and slipped back on his shoes. Looking down at himself he grimaced at the splotches of dirt and grime all over his clothes, and the fact that his hoodie pocket was ripping, and his sleeves were stretched too wide, _and_ his shoes were peeling away from the soles. 

He actually felt his eyes starting to sting at the sight of himself. 

_How could things have gotten so bad? All I wanted to do was help people. I just wanted to save people, I was_ **_helping_** _, so why am I here? Why am I running away from the people I’m trying to save, sleeping on rooftops and freezing to death and so fucking hungry my belly hurts? Why do I fuck up everything I touch?_

Peter sighed and brushed a tear off his face roughly, pushing the thoughts away as best he could. It’s just his Parker Luck, that’s all. Fucks everything over as best it can, as usual. 

_I just hope it doesn’t get me discovered. I don’t care what happens, as long as Mr. Stark and Aunt May and my friends can’t find me, they’ll be safe,_ he thought, swinging his leg off the roof and carefully climbing down. Normally he would just web his way down, which is a lot faster, but he didn’t have a lot of web fluid left, and there was no way for him to make more. 

The scent of food was growing stronger and stronger as he climbed down, to the point where he felt a bit lightheaded with hunger. Maybe… maybe he could sneak in and grab something. Or not even that, he could just walk in and ask for a table for one. Order and eat, then book it. People dine and dash all the time right? And it looked so warm and cozy there. 

He wondered when the last time he actually felt comfortable. His joints and shoulders constantly ached from sleeping on the rooftops, not to mention that food would definitely ease the pain in his belly. But what if they suspected him? Or recognized him from the news? He could still sneak in, and if someone caught him he could beg them not to tell, beg them to keep quiet, beg them for something to eat--

“Oh my god, what am I thinking?” Peter said to himself, finally setting foot on the ground. He couldn’t do that. _Any_ of that. He’s supposed to be the hero, heroes don’t steal food, or dine and dash, or beg people for things. 

But when his stomach rumbled loudly again it seemed to be saying “heroes gotta eat too.”

Peter was still weighing his options, staring at the restaurant and rubbing his belly, when he heard a shriek split the air. 

“HELP! Help, someone please!”

Peter groaned, for once feeling like he’d rather _not_ be a hero now. If everyone was just gonna turn on him, why should he waste his time trying to save them? Hell, why should he even consider whether or not he should steal food? He wanted to _eat_ dammit, why shouldn’t he just ignore them, and instead go order eight cheeseburgers, and three milkshakes, with a side of five fries?

But when the person screamed again, Peter seemed to snap out of it, suddenly realizing his thoughts. 

_Shit._

Peter quickly yanked off his hoodie and shoes and threw his suit back on, gasping at the wave of heat that spread over his skin as the heater started up. 

“Karen! Tell me where those screams are coming from!” he said as he frantically pulled on his mask. 

“Plotting route now,” she responded, a blue arrow pointing him across the street and into an alleyway. Peter webbed his way there as fast as he could, cursing under his breath. 

“Dammit Parker, what the hell is wrong with you? Oh my god if they got hurt--Fuck, man!”

He dropped into the alleyway to see a woman pointing a gun at a man and what must’ve been his son behind him. The man was pleading to her, begging her not to hurt his baby. Peter’s guilt only got heavier as he realized if he’d gotten here sooner then maybe him and his son wouldn’t be so terrified. 

“HEY!” Peter shouted, causing all three of them to start and look at him. The woman’s eyes were glassy and drunken, the same look Peter saw on a lot of drivers he saved people from. “Put the gun down! Drop it, you don’t want to hurt them!”

“Spider-Man?” Peter heard the little boy squeak. 

“SHUT UP!” The woman screamed shrilly, whipping around to face them again and gripping the gun tighter. 

“No! Look at me! Point that at me!” Peter cried, running forward and forcing himself between the gun and pair trapped at the end of the alleyway. The woman seemed to be so stunned at this move that she didn’t even react. 

“Eyes on me,” Peter said calmly, staring wide at her. As he went on he slowly began to turn around her, and she instinctively followed him with her eyes and gun. “Everything’s fine, just keep… looking… at… me.”

When she’d made enough of a turn for the boy and his father to run behind her and escape, Peter snatched her arm and yelled “GO!”

The woman tried to turn as the pair took off, the father holding his child to his chest, but Peter held fast, gripping her arm tight enough for her to cry out in pain. 

_BLAM!_

The force of the bullet nearly knocked Peter off his feet, as if the white hot pain wasn’t enough to do that. Every bell and alarm in his head was ringing, his Spidey Sense spiking to the point where the pain made his vision swim in front of him. 

If you asked Peter now what he did after that, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. He doesn’t remember webbing the woman to the wall and clutching his shoulder as he stumbled out of the alleyway. He doesn’t remember hearing sirens and dazedly thinking he has to hide before they see him. He doesn’t even remember climbing into a dumpster and falling with a whimper on a pile of black trash bags out of sight. 

And he sure doesn’t remember the roar of repulsors just outside his hiding place. 

In fact, all he remembers after that is realizing he forgot to take off his suit, and that his shoes, backpack, and hoodie, were still sitting next to the restaurant. 

~~~

Tony hadn’t slept since Peter went missing. He spent every minute, every second looking for Peter. Even when Pepper urged him to sleep, even when Rhodey came in to give him another meal to be left uneaten, he didn’t stop. God, all he wanted was for his baby to come home. He knew why Peter left, he knew Peter thought it was the right thing, but sometimes he wondered where the hell he got all the self-sacrifice from.

In the back of Tony’s mind he knew Peter had gotten it from him, but that only made him feel worse. He hated that he may have inspired Peter’s idea to go off on his own, to throw himself at the mercy of the world just to keep people from being inconvenienced. 

“Friday scan the latest news articles for sightings of Spider-Man please?” Tony said, drinking what must’ve been his fourth cup of coffee that day. 

“There are 32 articles, Boss,” she responded promptly. 

“And how many of those are real?”

“None, sir.”

“Right. Awesome.”

Tony set down his coffee, and pulled up a hologram, running his usual searches and scans for Peter. Every day was looking more and more hopeless, and Tony’s last thread to cling to was that someone would spot him and he’d be able to get there in time before Peter slipped out of his grasp. Again. 

There was also the possibility of the health alert going off. But for that to happen Peter would have to either get seriously hurt, or happen to fall asleep in the suit, which he seems to be taking very careful steps _not_ to. He’d hate for Peter to get hurt, even if it meant being able to find him. 

“Boss!” Friday said suddenly, startling Tony so much he knocked his mug off the counter and it smashed to the floor. But he ignored it, knowing Friday had never used this amount of urgency in her voice before. 

“What is it?! Where is he!?”

“His health alert went off, I’m sending coordinates to Mark 42 now!”

Tony rushed to the suit room and stepped into the Mark 42, blasting off of the launchpad and turning the repulsors to full strength, headed straight for Peter’s coordinates. 

“Talk to me Fri.”

“Peter has been shot in the shoulder, no major arteries hit, but he is losing blood. He seems to be extremely sleep deprived as well as malnourished, and will lose consciousness soon.”

“God kid, what have you gotten yourself into?” Tony muttered. He was surprised at how close Peter was, he thought in the two weeks he’d been missing he might’ve gone farther, but he seems to have only made it just outside New York City. 

“Land here, Boss,” Friday said suddenly. Tony looked down and saw a pitch black alleyway, and quickly descended down, landing a few meters away from a dumpster. But from what Tony could see, nobody was here. 

“C’mon Fri, I don’t fucking have time for puzzles--”

“The garbage, Boss,” Friday interrupted. Tony felt his skin go cold as he turned around, staring at the dumpster. He quickly went over and peered inside. 

And there he was. 

_My kid, my Peter._

He was sprawled limply over a mound of trash bags, blood leaking out of a bullet hole in his shoulder. Tony pulled off his mask and took in his pale, thin face and dark circles under his eyes.

“Oh my god--Oh Pete.” He lifted him from the trash, feeling tears of both relief and fear spring to his eyes. “Hey kiddo, we’re gonna get you home now, okay buddy? We just um… we gotta stop this bleeding first.”

“Karen says Peter’s possessions are next to the restaurant across the street, there’s a hoodie there that you can use to stop the bleeding,” Friday said quickly. Tony flew gently to the spot she indicated, and found a discarded hoodie that was nearly threadbare, a pair of shoes that were barely recognizable as shoes, and a ratty old backpack where Peter must’ve kept his extra things in. He almost thought it’s where he kept his food too, but the kid was practically a sack of bones, there’s no way he’s been eating much. 

“Okay baby, I’m just gonna set you down so I can get this hoodie tied around you,” he said, knowing Peter couldn’t hear him but feeling too relieved that he could talk to his kid again to stop. “We’re gonna stop the bleeding and get you home okay? It’ll all be okay, I promise Pete.” 

Once Tony got the ratty sweater tied around Peter’s shoulder enough to keep constant pressure on it, he quickly shoved the shoes into Peter’s pack and swung it over his shoulder. Then he gingerly picked him up, cradling his head and hoping the metal fingers weren’t too uncomfortable for him. 

“Okay Pete, we’re gonna go now okay? We’re gonna go and get you patched up now, you’re safe now alright?”

Tony’s helmet clanked shut and he blasted off, headed straight for the Tower again, still speaking comfortingly to Peter, hoping somehow he could hear. 

~~~

Peter woke very slowly, slipping in and out of consciousness for what could’ve been seconds or days. Ultimately what woke him was realizing that he was far more comfortable than he should be. He should be freezing, his shoulders should be aching from the hard rooftop, his face should be sticky and wet with grime. 

He shouldn’t feel a familiar warmth in his hand. 

Peter finally opened his eyes, the action much harder than it sounds. He was in a hospital. No, not a hospital, it wasn’t quite the same. A medbay. Stark Tower’s medbay. 

And the person holding his hand was Mr. Stark himself. He had his head on the hospital bed, snoring softly and holding Peter’s hand firmly, as though terrified if he let go, Peter would simply fade away. 

_No. No no no no no, I shouldn’t be here, no, oh god--_

Peter’s eyes filled with tears and he couldn’t even hold back a sob. His small whimpers were what woke Tony. 

“Peter?” he mumbled, lifting his head quickly and blinking sleep away. When he caught sight of Peter’s face his expression softened and he quickly stood up, reaching over and wiping away Peter’s tears. “Oh god, Peter, hey it’s okay, it’s okay baby, you’re okay.”

“No, no, Mr. Stark I can’t be here, they’re gonna--”

“Shh, none of that kiddo--”

“No, no no no I have to leave Mr. Stark, you shouldn’t have taken me here, they’re gonna hurt--”

“Nobody's gonna hurt anybody, baby. I know what you were trying to do, I know you want to keep us safe,” Tony said, pulling the blankets higher up on Peter, and tucking them in. “But you don’t have to run away. I’ve taken care of everything.”

“W-What do you mean you’ve taken care of everything?” Peter said. It was then he noticed he was still absolutely starving, making it much harder to focus as he looked up at Tony. 

“I mean I’ve made sure your friends, Ned, MJ, your school, and Aunt May, all of them are protected. If a villain comes anywhere near them, if news reporters bombard them, I’ll know. You don’t have to leave to keep them safe anymore, I’ve taken care of everything, kiddo,” Tony said, squeezing his hand. “Well almost everything. You sir, have not been easy to take care of, as you haven’t even been around for me to care for you.”

Peter looked down, fidgeting with his covers as his face turned bright red. 

Mr. Stark had it covered. Of course he did, he’s a billionaire, he can just hire people to keep everyone safe. Why didn’t Peter think of that before?

“I-I’m sorry. I thought it would be better for everyone if I just left, I thought you guys would be happier--”

“Pete, we could never be happy without you,” Tony said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re too nice kid. Always thinking about others and forgetting to think about yourself. You don’t have to help anyone else right now, just let me take care of you okay?”

Peter smiled and nodded, wiping a few stray tears from his eyes. 

“Okay,” he said softly. Tony smiled and squeezed his hand again before speaking again. 

“You feel comfortable? Is there anything I can get you? Extra pillows or something?”

“Oh um, actually could--”

Peter’s stomach cut him off with a loud rumble, and he could feel it squirming hungrily under his skin. He felt his face flush a deep red and Tony gave a small chuckle. 

“Jeez, can’t believe I forgot, you’re starving aren’t you?” Tony said. He patted Peter’s belly, and reached for something below the bed. When he pulled an entire paper bag full of food up Peter thought he might just cry. “How many cheeseburgers do you think you can fit in that tummy of yours?”

Tony helped Peter sit up, careful to keep his injured shoulder still, and gave him a burger. Peter ate like he never had in his life, shoveling mouthfuls of bread and meat and cheese down as fast as he could. 

“Woah, kid, you might wanna slow down there,” Tony said after a moment, but Peter wasn’t paying attention. His heart was pounding and his stomach was aching and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than eating and swallowing as much food as he could. The guilt of wanting to steal from a restaurant instead of saving that little family seemed to bubble to the surface of his mind, and he quickly distracted himself with more bites of food, hoping to bury the guilt under it all. 

“Peter? Hey, Pete, baby you gotta slow down--”

His eyes began to sting, and his breathing soon became hyperventilating, and he tried to ignore it, ignore the horrible feeling in his chest at the sight of the terrified father and his son, hoping it would go away if he just made the ache in his belly stop. 

“Peter!” 

A hand snatched his wrist and Peter looked up wildly, a desperate whine in the back of his throat. Tears were streaming down his face now, and he swallowed the bite he still had in his mouth. The endless mountain of guilt that had been collecting in his chest since he ran away was finally topped off by the look of worry in Tony’s face. 

Why did it remind him so much of the father in the alleyway?

The dams broke, leaving Peter to curl up and sob into his knees. 

“Oh no, hey, kiddo, what’s wrong? It’s okay baby, you’re not in trouble I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself, I promise,” Tony said gently. When Peter didn’t answer he crawled up and sat on the bed next to him, wrapping his arms around Peter’s trembling shoulders. 

“I-I messed up Mr. Stark,” Peter said in a trembling voice. “I fucked up, I fucked up everything, I ruined it--”

“Woah hey, what’re you talking about? What’s going on?”

Peter turned and clutched Tony, sobbing into his shirt as he explained all about the restaurant and the father and his son, and the woman in the alleyway. How he’d wanted to steal, how he didn’t go to save them right away, how he wanted to just leave them and go inside the warm, cozy looking restaurant and forget it ever happened. 

When he eventually finished Tony didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead he just reached into the bag and brought out another cheeseburger, holding it out to Peter. Peter didn’t take it, still feeling guilty for having wanted _this_ instead of wanting to help. 

“Eat up kiddo, it’s okay. Just go slower this time.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes you do. Everyone deserves to eat, and that includes you. You didn’t do anything wrong back there Pete, it was just a moment. Doing the right thing can be… extremely hard sometimes. I’m telling you the truth when I say that most people in that situation would’ve left someone else to take care of it and gone inside without much of a second thought.”

“But I’m not most people Mr. Stark. I’m supposed to be the ‘someone else’, I’m supposed to be the hero. How can I call myself something like that if I didn’t want to help?”

Tony rubbed his hand over Peter’s shoulder, and held the cheeseburger right under Peter’s nose, causing his stomach to growl again. Peter took it with a sigh and started eating again to quell the monster in his belly. 

“Like I said kid, it was just a moment. You were cold, tired, starving, and worst of all you felt betrayed. The people you’re trying to save turned against you, so of course you felt less inclined to help them. But the thing about you is, even if you get knocked around, you never think it’s okay to hurt them back. That’s why you changed your mind. You knew that even if they hated you, you couldn’t handle the idea of them being hurt when there was something you could do to stop it. Not everyone is like that kiddo, you’re special. Just because there was one moment where you felt bitter, doesn’t mean you’re not a hero anymore. You still saved that little boy and his dad, you were still a hero. Everyone falters, it’s just a matter of if they stay down.”

He put a hand under Peter’s chin, coaxing him to look up into his eyes. 

“I’ve never known a kid like you to stay down for long.”

Peter gave a watery smile and buried his face against Tony’s chest as they clung to each other, each finally feeling like they could relax. 

Peter spent the next few days recovering in the medbay, his Aunt having arrived at the Tower only half an hour after he woke up and making him swear never to pull something like that again. His friends also came to visit, and MJ sketched Peter and Ned as they built an Avengers Lego Quinjet together. 

It was on his last day in the hospital that he woke up to see Tony slumped in a chair and his Aunt May snoring on his shoulder, and he finally felt at home again.

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think in the comments below! Feel free to follow me on tumblr [@joyful-soul-collector](https://joyful-soul-collector.tumblr.com/), and we can yell about marvel together!


End file.
